We Have No Meaning, But I Still Want You
by Kajune
Summary: The day of war is coming, stuck between love and law, Ulquiorra is unable to make his final days of peace worth while with his beloved Grimmjow. GrimmUlqui AizenUlqui AizenGin


**Title **: We Have No Meaning, But I Still Want You

**Disclaimer** : I do not own any of the Characters including Bleach.

**Genre** : Romance / Angst

**Warning **: Contains maleXmale content. Character Death. OOCness.

**Summary **: The day of war is coming, stuck between love and law, Ulquiorra is unable to make his final days of peace worth while with his beloved Grimmjow. GrimmUlqui AizenUlqui AizenGin

**Sequel to **: We Have No Meaning, But I Still Love You

* * *

><p><strong>Upcoming War<strong>

A meaning for existence was never there to begin with. When a clingy human died and became a Hollow, a portion of Ulquiorra was born. No, the portion that was Ulquiorra came to existence, but at that time, there was no meaning for him to have gained eyes to see, a nose to breathe, ears to hear, and a mouth to speak.

Yes, he was born when another died. He came alive when another failed to live, but wanted to. In the form obviously gruesome if not horrofying, Ulquiorra came to the world of life. Then, after that, he crossed worlds and encountered many others like himself.

Hunger, pure hunger drove him into the desire to consume beyond what a natural Hollow would. As a being without meaning, the Ulquiorra of that time just ate, ate what his insides wanted and kept going. All the other Hollows around him were forced down his throat. They tried to fight back for their own survival, in order to become stronger, but Ulquiorra didn't care about that. He was simply hungry.

Then, over an unknown period of time, he turned small and white. The place he was in, was pitch black, and so were his comrades. They, although not really different from the others surrounding them, meant something to Ulquiorra. They interested him, spoke to him and had him follow them much like a dog on a leech.

He never saw a meaning to live for himself, even when it seemed so much like he cared.

He tagged along with a group of others, powerful in title, but back-stabbers in behavior. When the main purpose to live that all others have grew stronger within the group, Ulquiorra watched with disappointment as he, a being of no meaning, became the target for the next meal.

As he evolved through each stage, his hunger decreased along with it. He had nothing to cherish or protect, but he defended himself anyway, as part of his nature. He killed them, as he had killed so many others. They had meant something to a certain degree, yes, but he was eventually proven that they too, were just like everybody else.

Never once has he killed so he could live. Never.

Despair, emptiness, hopelessness, were the feelings inside Ulquiorra the most. He experienced all of them throughout the life he could remember, and what he could remember seeing, were reasons never to hope for the better.

There was no logic in doing so.

The world was as dark as the sky of Hueco Mundo. There was no one special alive, no one lovable setting foot anywhere. If someone you met seemed different from another, they would eventually respond to their natural instincts and be themselves. As a Hollow, they would eat you. As a Shinigami, they would slay you. As a human, they would murder you.

It was the same with everyone, no matter the appearance.

Yet every creature never seems to learn, to change from the old ways and become better.

Buried, deep within the thorns of despair, Ulquiorra slightly cracked form laid. There, he was safe. There, he was happy. There, he had nothing. There, he would live.

Until a man as great as god appeared and offered him a reason...to live.

* * *

><p>"Ulquiorra!"<p>

A familiar, demanding voice shouts his name, knocking Ulquiorra out of his daze. A book slips from his hands and hits the floor, near his feet. It seems that apparently Ulquiorra had fallen asleep while reading a book in the small library room, installed only a few years ago.

A request made by Ulquiorra and Szayelaporro together, though for different reasons.

Ulquiorra's green eyes look up to see Grimmjow, staring down at him with a frown. A look so common that Ulquiorra believes, nothing will truly make it go away. Eventually, no matter what happens, the blue-haired will always go back to looking like this.

"Don't go turning into a statue everytime you read a book," Grimmjow says, unknowingly confusing Ulquiorra, who fails to recall exactly what times does he fall asleep. He rarely reads books, despite being something he likes doing, so he couldn't of fallen asleep often, yet even if he does everytime, how would Grimmjow have found out?

Not to mention, it has only been quite recently, since they became 'close'.

"It creeps me out." Grimmjow adds, while picking up the fallen book and putting it back on Ulquiorra's palms, where its brown cover barely darkens Ulquiorra's skin.

"I apologize." Ulquiorra says, looking down at the book. A book about logic, interesting. That isn't so surprising, considering he had just dreamt about the logical things in his past. A past that is still attached to him, and constantly reminding him of reality, where Aizen is superior to all.

Yet, Grimmjow, the only supposed to forever be the rowdy one, has managed to change the belief, the belief that Aizen's words mean everything while Ulquiorra's own existence means nothing. Also, Grimmjow has actually managed to make him care for himself, when he never did before, unless it was an order.

Grimmjow is indeed, unlike any other Hollow he has met throughout his life.

A soft kiss is placed on his cheek, and when Ulquiorra turn towards his left, he sees a new expression on Grimmjow's face. The look is no longer stern, the eyes no longer have a hint of annoyance. There is also no lust in them, like that time. "Ulquiorra." Grimmjow whispers.

A couple of seconds pass by, before Ulquiorra asks, "What is it?"

There is no clear explanation what caused the sudden rise in heat in the room, but despite being the curious type, Ulquiorra doesn't bother to do anything about it and allows favored lips to touch his own. He has felt them so often, before his days became so packed with duties, now he finds himself longing from them like a drug.

Grimmjow soon gains access into Ulquiorra's warm moth, leaning his weight forward slightly to explore more easily. When it felt that Ulquiorra was going fall, and the chair was going to slip, Grimmjow allowed the latter to happen and brought his arms under thin legs and a smooth back to prevent the former.

He is now holding Ulquiorra up, his whole weight, without a single problem. Surprised somewhat to find him being actually this light, though as bad as the reasons could be, Grimmjow is content with it. The brown book had fallen along with the chair, forgotten, and will probably be left there until the assigned librarian comes and finds it.

Being quite a small room, the only one of its kind in Las Noches, it won't be too hard to notice.

The two Arrancars continue kissing in that position, satisfied with what they finally get to do, after months of being formal towards each other, while constantly being in public.

'Grimmjow...' Ulquiorra mutters in his head.

* * *

><p>The question was...<p>

When will the war start?

As the Shinigami feared by many puts on his flawless white jacket, preparing to leave his chambers where exists a bed, occupied by a silver-haired subordinate, he quickly begins thinking up an answer. When playing games with Aizen, should one try to restrict him from his sexual needs, the game will turn completely unsuitable for children.

Whether Aizen feels annoyed or okay with having gotten a new bed partner, Gin, on the other hand, intentionally provoked Aizen into turning away from Ulquiorra, in hopes that the latter would finally be free, even for a while, from chains of restriction so tight and old, that even Gin feels like crying for him.

With the day when a possibility for peace becomes no more, is looming closer, Gin is eager to find out directly when it will begin. He wants to do everything he can to make better things happen, and have them last as long as possible, even at the cost of his own flesh, for he has known since childhood, that once he took the path of evil, there is absolutely nothing worth loving about him, except his heart.

A heart that may still be pure, even now.

"Tomorrow."

Gin freezes at the answer. Though he had an idea that it was very soon, considering how most of the lower-ranked Arrancars have been running around carrying strange stuff allover the place, he never wanted it to begin on December 1st.

That is the day when Ulquiorra joined the army, and became an Arrancar. The day he was born.

The Shinigami still remembers how he took part in trying to give Grimmjow a good birthday. He has been anticipating to do the same for Ulquiorra, but with the beginning of the war right on that special day, the chances Gin will even be able to deliver a personal 'congradulations' seems extremely slim.

He so doesn't like this.

"I'll have Ulquiorra lead the first group to Soul Society. A few hours later, I will send all the weak Arrancars out together."

Even with Aizen not saying it, Gin knows, that he is willing to let Ulquiorra die serving him. Either out of further punishment for being disrespectful or out of pure lack of concern for him, it doesn't matter. The 4th strongest Espada's existence is a master-piece of Aizen, and so, there is also no doubt that Ulquiorra is willing to die too.

Gin must try and make things right, as minor as they may turn out, as long as one can be happy, he will be.

Right? Right?

* * *

><p>Memories of his sufferings by the hands of Aizen are crystal clear in his head, every second of every night, he knows how it all went. He simply had no choice but to let it all happen, even when it pained him so much to do so. On one faithful day, he finally went against an order, and stood his ground, feeling foolish. If he hadn't done such a thing, he wouldn't of gained a medicine capable of washing away the horrible memories whenever they arose.<p>

When he thinks of Grimmjow, from his smell to his touches, all the pain he sometimes relives goes. What replaces it isn't the emptiness he has gotten used to, but the feeling of pleasure. True pleasure. Grimmjow loves him, he admitted months ago, and has just said so again only a minute ago.

There is no real meaning in them without Aizen, but with a 'heart', there can be.

A bond, attachment and dedication to one another, which fills them with determination to do what is best for each other. Ulquiorra has yet to truly admit being in love with Grimmjow, but even without anyone asking, he feels that most likely, the one being able to make him feel what maybe joy, is someone he loves. The only one he loves.

Ulquiorra is trembling under the soft touches of Grimmjow, whose hands have reached private areas yet again. Both their Zanpakutos are discarded, forgotten, with Grimmjow's jacket off along with both their boots. Ulquiorra has yet to be stripped of all his clothing, but even with that, Grimmjow seems to know just how else to get at that sensitive, white skin.

They are going at it again, and this time, it is all very much intentional on both parts.

On the floor of the library, a room without any surveillance, just them, together, with a thousand other books. One could complain that this isn't the best place to make love with someone, but not having the mind of a human and a different view of such an activity, Ulquiorra genuinely doesn't mind where they are right now.

Just being with Grimmjow like this, somehow makes him glad.

"I love you so fucking much, Ulquiorra." Grimmjow confesses, his breathing now a bit uneven. Only now does Ulquiorra notice the change in the atmosphere; warm. Everything feels so warm, except for Grimmjow's breathes, which seem to burn when touching his skin. They kiss, he touches, they kiss, and he touches again. If not in this routine, then Grimmjow will do both at the sametime. Doing so drives Ulquiorra quite insane.

He can never get used to this kind of thing, never. It just isn't his nature to participate in it, let alone accept someone so close to his body, his heart.

He doesn't want to have to let go of this person.

Ever.

That said, Ulquiorra wraps his arms around Grimmjow's neck and cuddles him that way. Maybe or not, does Grimmjow know, that Ulquiorra is doing this out of desire to protect, keep, and maintain, despite being aware of the final days in which this shall continue, afterwards, end forever.

* * *

><p><em>Hours later...<em>

Much like that time, months ago, Ulquiorra became paralyzed by a question directed from his creator. Then he was offered - if not forced - a choice to be forgiven, to be allowed into welcoming arms, arms he would prefer never to go near again. This time, there is no offer, but simply the explanation of what shall happen on the first day of a war.

Ulquiorra's role spells clearly to him, that death is just next door. Gin, the only other person present in the throne room right now, watches from the shadows with concern in his heart and mischievous on his face, along with the belief that the Espada too, is aware that Aizen is willing to just chuck him aside like a disposable object.

If he manages to make it out of this war with his life, then Aizen will have a reason to be proud of him, but, there has been no proof that Aizen ever gathered them to have an army _after_ he fulfills his goal. So the chances are, dead or alive, Ulquiorra means the same.

During the earlier years in which he served Aizen, Ulquiorra was very much like a puppet. If the man wanted to use him, he could. If the man wanted to order him, he could. If the man wanted to touch him, he could.

Ulquiorra, drowned in the understanding that there is no point in anything else, did everything Aizen wanted, as he was god, his creator, and the most powerful.

Even now he still is, in reality he is, but Ulquiorra has learned not to constantly feel despair. Grimmjow loves him, _cares_ for him, even when his own rough nature doesn't permit it. He has grown attached to Ulquiorra. No words can change that, no insults or threats can force Grimmjow to treat Ulquiorra the same as before; as a rival.

At first he didn't like the inordinary attention, but now he cherishes it, so much that Grimmjow is more or less like a god to him now.

However, as he had known for a long time, the day when he can be under the warmth of his beloved will be no more, and that shall start tomorrow. Today is the final day in which they can be together, but, the question is, wouldn't it be better to end it as soon as possible? To not make tomorrow anymore painful than it will be.

Ulquiorra doesn't want to hurt Grimmjow anymore, he doesn't want to disconnect his link to the only true happiness he found. Having lived through a life of nothing, it is only natural for him to want to cling, to the very thing he thought never to exist.

The whole of December is the duration of the war, and there's a chance it will stretch out further. The possibility of survival when one is a mere subordinate, is very small. So Ulquiorra, is without any choice. He knows now what is going to happen to him, he expected it to be true, but only now does he actually have something to care for.

That something must be abandoned, or despair will be all both sides will feel.

Ulquiorra doesn't want that.

"Gin, leave us."

Ulquiorra's heart skips a beat, upon hearing the order. Without the fox-faced Shinigami, there is only just Aizen and him, and unless Aizen requests one's presence, no one is going to come into this place. The urge to escape is rising, but even so, his entire being is unable to twitch. He must be terrified, if not ashamed of himself, being forced to become Aizen's toy once more.

Gin noticeably hesitates to leave, a frown clear on his face. When Aizen reaches the ground and looks back at him, possibly to send a glare, Gin bites his lower lip and disappears into the darkness. He is most likely not daring to be there any longer.

Aizen approaches Ulquiorra, and brings a hand up to caress his cheek, on the side where the Hollow mask extends. He won't say it, but Aizen's hand feels ice cold, and soft. Ulquiorra wants to remain Grimmjow's, if not his own, but being powerless and obviously helpless at this point, Ulquiorra may have no other choice besides accepting reality once more.

He is nothing. No one else is anything. Aizen is everything.

Aizen's hand travels down the side of Ulquiorra's body, exposed only a couple of hours ago, but Aizen is not to know that, is not. His hands grabs hold of the Zanpakuto, and pulls it out from its sheath. What he does next surprises Ulquiorra, and that is to use his very own weapon to slice his clothes. Bits of it fall off, leaving only the lucky pieces to remain on Ulquiorra's body.

The Zanpkuto is alined under Ulquiorra's jaw, slightly titling his head up. Just by luck or not, that his skin is without any red spots. Grimmjow must of been careful not to leave any evidence, whether or not he knew Aizen would reclaim Ulquiorra soon.

"It seems I still wish to permit you into my chambers," Aizen says, looking down at the Arrancar with lustful eyes. He truly is unaware of Ulquiorra's change in relationship with Grimmjow, but if one were to ask, Ulquiorra isn't entirely sure what it has changed into. "But, when you look like this, my throne is suitable enough."

Ulquiorra swallows his pride, and lets himself be violated once more. This is the last day for happiness, so there should be no point in dragging it out. He had his moment, that is enough. Time to come back to the truth and allow Aizen to pull him around, lift him off his feet should he feel like it. With his chin on the top of the throne, his rear end sticking out slightly, Ulquiorra shuts his eyes as the man without mercy pleases himself.

...and himself alone.


End file.
